


Soft Comfort

by The_Shy_One



Category: Batman (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics)
Genre: Arguing, Comfort, Fluff, Headaches & Migraines, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Teasing, Vomiting, mentions of vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27084118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Shy_One/pseuds/The_Shy_One
Summary: As a start of a migraine starts to settle in, Bruce is met with an unexpected visitor.
Relationships: Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 11
Kudos: 104





	Soft Comfort

He knew it was a migraine the moment spots of lights flickered across his vision. He also knew it couldn’t be anything else causing this to happen since it occurred while sitting in front of the Batcomputer, shrouded in the cave’s natural darkness. Bruce pauses for a moment to take note of the spots, blinking as they floated in front of his eyes. As if taunting him that they were a sign of incoming doom, of the head-splitting ache at his temples that he would experience in the next hour. Then goes to settle back into doing his work, knowing that he could push through it a bit longer.

He was, however, not given notice of the Green Lantern stopping by. Especially right as the spots of light would disappear from his eyes.

He only takes notice when his computer alerts him of someone tripping a sensor right outside the entrance of the cave.

“Hey Spooky,” Hal starts when he gets in view, voice reaching across the cave. “Got a minute to look over some details of this case you dumped into my lap yesterday?”

Bruce doesn’t turn around, still staring at the screen. His head doesn’t hurt yet despite the tiniest bit of pain making its way to his temple. But the light from the screen doesn’t bother him as many would expect of him experiencing a migraine. It just reared its ugliness in a different manner.

As his stomach starts to twist, nausea showing itself to him, he answers Hal. “And what would those details be, Jordan?”

Hal comes closer, green light from his uniform still glowing despite how much the man tried to taper down the brightness. “Were you going to tell me that Gotham was housing an alien royal fugitive before you dumped the case in my lap or was I supposed to read that while trying to not panic about how I tell Oa about this?”

The file was thrown so that it would land on the keyboard, the papers barely touching his fingertips as he looked down at them. There was only a single picture of the alien, more human-looking than anyone expected. But the way they had fought proved that they were dangerous and needed to be dealt with before they caused harm to any citizens of Gotham.

“They hadn’t mentioned that while I was fighting them. Nor would their DNA suggest that they were royal.” He answers. The start of the tale-tell sign of the familiar pounding in his temples, the start of a migraine settling for the next few days. His nausea doesn’t go away either, growing along with the headache.

“Of course, you wouldn’t,” Hal says, a sigh escaping him. “You would know if you asked me when giving me the case.”

“It slipped,” Bruce admits. Then his stomach lurches, the only signal he has before he quickly has to put a hand to his face and place it over his mouth to hold in vomit.

He doesn’t swallow it, it never ends well when he tried to do that in the past. He just keeps his hand there, trying to get his stomach to stop for a moment so he could find something so he could hunch over it.

He must have made a universal sound for  _ ‘I’m going to throw up and have nowhere to put my vomit in,’  _ because there in front of him was a construct of a green wastebasket and he grabs ahold of it.

Nothing matters for the next minute besides retching and making sure nothing makes it to the ground or on his costume. When his stomach is done, Bruce leans away from the construct and notices for the first time that Hal is close, looking concerned as he stares down at Bruce without his mask. He hands Bruce a water bottle, watching as Bruce sips enough to swish around in his mouth before it’s being spit into the wastebasket construction.

“It’s nothing,” Bruce says,” just something that happens on occasion.”

“Something that happens a lot, Spooky?” Usually, that would be said with a challenging tone, even judgement if Hal were feeling less than charitable towards Bruce. 

But the tone here was softer, kinder. He even reaches out to Bruce to put a hand on his shoulder, staring down at him with concern in his eyes. “Come on, you can tell me. You did vomit into my construction. gives me some kind of privilege right now.”

Bruce grunts, tired suddenly. “Migraine, the start of one.”

Silence. Bruce watches as Hal tips his head to the side and goes through a flurry of emotions. His face settles on determination and Bruce knows it’s going to be directed at him. “Alright, here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m going to find a bathroom to dump this in,” Hal gestures to the construct, still floating close by,” and we’re going to go to bed so you can actually deal with this.”

“Jordan-“

“It’s Hal while this is happening. Now, tell me where the bathroom is.”

Bruce points in the direction of the bathroom and Hal floats away, keeping the construct steady. His head still pounds, but his stomach has settled for now. But it would rear up later if he wasn’t careful. 

Maybe Hal had the right idea for once. 

He starts to pull off his costume, getting up to put it on the rack all while ignoring the sudden increase of wanting to clutch his head as this happens. Hal appears next to him when he puts the cowl up, still glowing green. 

He puts his feet on the ground suddenly his suit disappears, showing street clothes. All of it looks comfortable and something that makes Bruce want to bury his head into. Maybe if he presses his head hard enough into something soft it’ll make this headache go away. 

Irrational, but migraines were irrational as well. Fight fire with fire after all.

Hal holds an arm out, looking as if he were asking permission to wrap it around Bruce.

“Yes.” Was all he said. It was quickly wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him close to the other man. He let his head rest against Hal’s shoulder, content with letting the man lead him back to his room. 

The softness of Hal’s hoodie pressed against his face and Bruce sighed despite his head still pounding. “You got anything to deal with this?” He hears Hal ask.

“Other than over the counter medication and sleeping, no.”

“Just good old sleep to get through it?” 

“That or watching something for hours.” Bruce mumbles. “Light doesn’t bother me.”

“Tell that to the criminals that you stalk at night, Spooky,” Hal says cheerfully and Bruce knows there’s a smirk on the man’s face.

He grunts in reply which earns him a chuckle. At some point, he looks up to see the door to his room being opened. Hal directs him towards his bed, laying him on top of the blankets and sheets. Bruce closes his eyes for a moment, listening to Hal rustle around his bedside table for a moment. 

Then there was something soft placed on his chest and he opened his eyes to see that it was Hal’s hoodie. With one arm, he moves it so he can press his face into it, finding comfort in the softness in it. 

“These the pills you take?” Hal asks, shaking a plastic bottle. 

Bruce sees the familiar label and gingerly nods his head yes. Hal hands the bottle over and goes to lay on the other side of Bruce, bouncing the mattress slightly as he does this. He takes two pills out and swallows them dry, feeling them go down his throat. 

Nausea appears for a moment, but he knows that nothing will result in it appearing for a moment. Sighing, he lets his body sink into the bed, staring at the far wall. 

“You don’t have to stay,” He says quietly. “I’m fine.”

“Tell that to me who had to see the great Batman actually vomit like a person,” Hal said, shifting so he was facing Bruce. “Come on, I’m sure that butler of yours would like it if someone had to tell you to take it easy sometimes. I’m sure you don’t make it easy.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t know how to deal with migraines, Hal.”

“Instead of arguing this into an unmanageable headache, why don’t we watch something. You mentioned light doesn’t bother you, right?”

“You see a tv in here?”

“Spooky, I know you have a tv here somewhere, you can afford it more than I could,” Hal said, getting closer. “So James Bond it into view.”

Bruce sighs and then reaches for the small remote that was on the bedside table. He presses a button and on the far wall, it slides out, big enough screen to see what was going on and read subtitles. Hal lets out a scoff and then grabs the remote out of his hand to start playing with it. Bruce doesn’t fight in getting it back, just returns to pressing his head into the hoodie, wondering if Hal would let him keep it. 

That thought stops him for a moment. Why would he have that kind of thought? He can’t blame it on the migraine, never could since he was still functional despite the irritating pain. No, this was something else. 

“Hey Spooky, seen this yet? Heard the new season is decent.” Hal says, breaking Bruce out of his thoughts. 

He looks to see that Hal had found Netflix and was currently hovering over Daredevil, a show about a vigilante dressed in all red. “Why would you want to watch something you live?” He asks, mystified.

“Not quote my life, Spooky. More like yours.” He looks to see Hal smiling brightly. “Come on, you’ve never given it a try?”

“I’m a vigilante, why would I make time to watch something I do?”

“To keep up with trends as Brucie? To talk to your kids about which fighting techniques you would use if you were in that situation? Or maybe just to have some fun?” 

“You’re trying very hard to justify watching this for the next few hours,” Bruce says with a smile. 

“Spooky, it was either this or forcing you to watch Criminal Minds and seeing you cringe at their treatment of the mentally ill. I figured this had a better shot of being played.” Hal said, clicking on the first episode to play. 

Bruce sighs, but moves closer to the man, putting his head on Hal’s shoulder. Hal wraps a hand around him, pulling him closer to his body.

He watches, sees the opening shot of a man walking with the chaos of an accident going on around him. The scene continues, following the man as he rushes towards a boy struggling with being blinded with chemicals that had spilled when saving an old man from being hit by a truck. The man tries to minimize the damage that it causes, fatherly concerns front and center on the screen as the kid starts to scream. Bruce clings to Hal as this happens, trying not to connect this with his own life, both with his parents and with his children.

Hal pulls him closer, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m sorry, I forgot,” He murmurs, sounding apologetic. “I forgot this happens this soon.”

“Does it get better?” He asks, feeling small. 

“It does for a bit, I promise.” All of this says with a gentle kiss to his temple.

Hal was right. The scene quickly cuts to a blind man in a confessional booth, talking about his father and confessing to something he was about to do. Bruce watches it all, memorized. 

He lets the rest of the episode play, being comforted by Hal. He lets the next episode play as well, hooked on the show as Hal presses kisses to the side of his face, migraine forgotten between these two facts.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in a span of a few hours while experiencing my own migraine bc I just wanted some kind of hurt/comfort while having to deal with that. I based some of the symptoms Bruce experienced such as not reacted to light despite a throbbing headache and wanting to press his head into something soft on my own migraine experiences while others such as seeing the spots of lights in his eyes and vomiting on other symptoms that can occur with migraines.
> 
> Also since I'm rewatching Daredevil, I couldn't help including it here since I figured Hal would watch that in his downtime if the show were to exist in that universe. Dragging Bruce into it is just the cherry on top for him lol.
> 
> Hopefully, it was a fun one-shot to read! :D


End file.
